


What Happens In Asgard

by tielan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clothed/Naked, Drunk confessions, Established Relationship, F/M, Fucked against a window, Naked Male Clothed Female, Secret Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6662911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asgard isn’t interested in the sex lives of its royalty, and even less in the sex lives of its royalty's visitors...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens In Asgard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catandmouse10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catandmouse10/gifts), [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).



> A bonus round!

 Maria paused on the threshold of the room she’d been assigned in the palace. Thor had assured her of its security and demonstrated to her how the technology worked – no small thing when he was no longer just the Prince of Asgard but the King.  So how had a man gotten in— Sheets rustled, and the bright moonlight threw crisp shadows across a familiar profile.

“I was starting to think you’d taken the Valkyrie commander up on her offer after all.” Steve dragged a hand through his hair. “My head aches.”

In spite of herself – he wasn’t supposed to be here, not where anyone can find out about them – Maria found herself amused. “That would be the alcohol.”

He frowned at her, his hand pressed to his forehead. “You know I don’t get drunk.”

“Apparently you do. At least on this Asgardian brew.” Maria crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, less worried about the fact that Steve was drunk, more worried about the fact that he was in her bed. “You shouldn’t be here.”

His hand dropped to the sheets. “Why not? There’s nobody to see – just the Asgardians.”

“And Doc Foster, Banner, Natasha...”

“All of whom already know.” His fingers stroked along her cheekbone, curved to cup her neck. “I turned down a few offers tonight.”

Maria tried not to feel jealous. She made the rules when she dictated that this relationship stay secret: no public displays, and a lot of care even in private – she’d worked for S.H.I.E.L.D so she knew how far the surveillance could go. And he was Steve Rogers, Captain America – a beautiful specimen of a man, and Thor’s boon companion, even without all the passion and intensity of his personality.

“I said we could have an open relationship—”

“And I said I’m not made for that.” He pressed up behind her, a very male heat, and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, between her neck and the embroidered neckline of the Asgardian gown. “Besides, I want you. _Just_ you. Why can’t you accept that?”

“For the same reason you can’t accept that I’m not comfortable letting this be public – that I never will be.”

“Oh, I can accept it. I just don’t like it.” The note of bitterness was new, a little shocking – and a little terrifying. Because there would come a day when he decided she was more trouble than she was worth – and when that day came—

“Steve—”

“Asgard isn’t public. This room isn’t public.” His voice was strong and certain. “And I’d like to make love to you somewhere where we don’t have to be quiet in case the neighbours hear or the recording devices can pick it up and the windows don’t have to be shuttered because someone might catch a photo of us.”

Maria kept her voice light. “Exhibitionist much?”

“I like to think of it as possessive.” His teeth grazed her shoulder, and she shivered. “So do I go back to my cold and empty bed, or do I stay and we find out if we can do heaven in Asgard?”

The breath huffed out of her in a choked laugh. “Steve, that was _awful_.”

“I know.” He sounded completely unrepentant. “Blame Bucky.”

“I will.” Then Maria caught her breath as his hand curved around her hip, caught his lean in the corner of her eye and turned her head—

Steve had never kissed like an innocent – not even before he was with Sharon. However, since they’d been together, he’d learned a few more tricks, beginning fierce and possessive before softening against her mouth, drawing her in. And if Maria knew what he was doing, she still wasn’t immune to his lures.

It was nice to be wanted; to have someone desire her without simultaneously needing to dominate her. Oh, Steve liked being the lead in bed – and out of it – but he didn’t demand that she give in.

At least, not all the time.

She could live with the times he made demands – both in and out of bed – but she never let him forget that she was going to be her own person and that Captain America had no right to dictate to Director of the Superhuman Intelligence Initiative any more than Steve Rogers could tell Maria Hill what she was allowed to do.

Maybe someday that would cost her.

It hadn’t yet.

Steve pulled her close, into his lap, and Maria wriggled against the growing hardness there. He wasn’t wearing a stitch under the silky sheet, the heat of his skin burning through the fabric of her gown. His hands were busy on her body, stroking her waist, sliding down to her hips, teasing her through the layers with familiar intimacy.

One hand traced down his flanks, dancing her fingertips across his skin – light and ticklish. Then drew one hand over his hipbone and down between them to wrap around velvety skin over hot, hard muscle. Against her hip, his belly convulsed, a reflexive instinct as she slid her hand up his cock.

Maria liked to call the noise he made his purr – a rough groan in the back of his throat that vibrated in his Adam’s apple and made her grin every time she heard it. Making this man lose his careful control when fucked was a particularly thrilling experience – even above and beyond the sexual release.

And tonight, there was nobody to overhear, and nobody who would care if they overheard.

Her heart beat a little faster and her body ached. She thought of all the things she could do to him, all the things she wanted done to her, and shivered, even as Steve pressed his fingers between her thighs, stroking slippery fabric against slippery skin.

“You don’t have to be quiet,” he said against her mouth.

“I’ve never been much of a screamer.”

“Mm.” His fingers pressed into her again. “See, the ‘never been much’ part makes it a challenge.”

Her breath caught, but, “You’d lose.” She rolled her hips against his hand, rubbed him in a matching rhythm, and let the pleasure roll through her, for once allowing herself to be unguarded.

“But it’s not about winning or losing.” In a single, swift movement, he’d rolled her down to the moonlit mattress and pinned her with his body, his hand up her skirts. “It’s about the process of proving it one way or the other...”

Maria arched as his fingers slid under the edge of her panties and into her, familiar and knowing, and grabbed for his shoulders as her body sang with fire. And then she held on as he worked her in swift and certain movements, urging her on with his voice and his hands and the body that was a weapon in bed as much as the battlefield.

Pleasure flooded her body, pricking her senses so everything was _more_ – the musk-and-linen scent of his body pressed up beside her, the bright moonlight spilling over them, the darkness beyond the gleaming sweep of his hair, the press of his fingers inside her. Maria clutched at him, riding the orgasm until the ache of his touch was more than she could bear.

She pushed his hand away, weakly, and he brushed a fingertip up her labia and across her clit before licking his fingers clean of the wetness that coated them. Maria’s eyes narrowed as he grinned at her with pleased satisfaction.

“Exhibitionist.”

Steve grinned, the weight of him warm and tender over her. “Only for you.”

She brushed her fingers past his jaw, cupped his cheek as he rubbed his face against her palm. “Are you prepared for revenge?”

“Expecting? Yes. Prepared?” His gaze sharpened, focused, heated, and he brushed his mouth over hers, brief and intimate. “Never.”

Maria lifted her mouth to his and rolled them over so she was on top, astride him. She kissed him, deep and soft, and revelled in the way Steve clung to her – all that strength and beauty at her whim and mercy. And she had all night.

She scooted back over his hips and thighs, not bothering to flick her skirts out of the way. He sucked in a sharp breath as the soft fabric dragged over his cock, and she smirked. He sucked in a sharper one when she closed her hands around the tented fabric and began stroking him with the fierce, firm strokes that meant business.

“Going hard?” He propped himself up on his elbows, his raised brows mere blur in the sharp shadows cast by moonlight.

“You’re objecting?” Maria rubbed the tip and watched his chest heave.

“I want you slowly.” Desire gleamed in his gaze as he watched her stroke him. “As long as you can last.”

Her body – still sensitised – shivered. “I was going to take the edge off.”

“You can do that.” He smiled, slow and dangerous – an expression that most people wouldn’t expect to see from Captain America. “Just don’t think it’s going to get you a reprieve.”

“A reprieve?” Maria sat back on her haunches, met his gaze, and took the skirt of the dress in one hand. “Is this going to be a punishment or a pleasure?”

“Which would you prefer?” But his voice trembled on the last syllable. She’d started pulling the fabric of the skirt up and it was dragging slowly over his erection. Hand over hand over hand, Maria watched as he closed his eyes to savour the sensation, then open them as the hem caught lightly on the tip. A light lifting tug and it floated free, leaving him bare to her view.

Maria arched a brow at him, daring his reaction.

“For that,” Steve said with careful deliberation, “it’s going to be a little bit of both.”

“Threats, Captain?”

“I like to think of them as promises, Commander.” The smile was a weapon in and of itself. “Now, do you plan to do anything with me or not?”

For that, Maria took her time deactivating the shoulder clasps that held her gown on her. One shoulder slid off, then the other; the seams loosened and she drew up the skirts of the dress and pulled it off over her head. It pooled on the floor in a soft slither of material, leaving her naked save for her panties.

Then she bent over and planted a kiss on his breastbone before stroking her tongue down his centre until there was hot, damp flesh and wiry dark-gold curls.

She licked the length of him, swirled her tongue around the tip, and looked up to find him watching her. And grinned as she lowered her mouth and began fellating him with long, easy swipes of her tongue, gentle suction in her mouth, and the lightest scrape of her teeth down to press a kiss on his balls, before coming back up again and taking him in again.

Giving head was something she did well – at least, none of the other men she offered it to had any complaints, and she was pretty good at the technique.

Going down on Steve Rogers was something else – not just what she did to get him revved and ready, but something she enjoyed because...it was kind of fun.

Fun to feel him twitch and tense – like he wanted to thrash with the pleasure but as constrained. Fun to listen to his breaths coming increasingly short and rough – like he was trying to hold back, trying to hold off. Fun to lift her eyes to his and take her mouth off him for a second, before dragging him into her mouth and sucking _hard_...

Afterwards, she sat back, licking her lips clean of his semen, and surveyed her handiwork with satisfaction and amusement.

The sheets were clearly made to withstand Asgardian strength, since, by this time on Earth, the bed would have been a mess of ripped sheets. As it was, even super-strength couldn’t do more than wrinkle whatever this fabric was made of. Maria idly wondered if it would be impolite to ask if palace housekeeping would give her set of sheets so Steve wouldn’t keep having to buy her new ones.

“You’ve got a look on your face,” he murmured, his eyes still hazy underneath those ridiculous lashes.

“A look?”

“Scary determined look.”

“That would be because I just gave you a mind-blowing experience.”

“ _ _Mind__ _-blowing,_ was it?”

“Of c—” Her words were swallowed up in his mouth – he went from lying down to sitting up so damn __fast_ –_ but there was nothing fast about this kiss. It rolled over her like goddamned avalanche – soft, drugging kisses – slow and inevitable, carrying her away in sensation and wiping out her thoughts.

He eased her panties off, lightly pinching her clit, then coaxed her into his lap when she moaned against his mouth. A hard pull and she was sitting in his lap, right up against his cock. And Maria rubbed herself against the hot length that was rapidly hardening again – dear God, but the man had _stamina_ – then grabbed for his shoulders as he stood up, taking her with him.

“What—?” Maria stopped as he set her shoulders against the oddly warm stone of the wall by the door leading out to the balcony. Through the open archway, uncluttered by curtain or covering, she could see the dark sea surrounding the palace, and beyond that, the pinprick lights of the homes and hearths of the city that gleamed on the distant shore. “Here?”

“Asgard isn’t interested in the sex lives of its royalty.” Steve pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, to her jaw, to her throat... “And even less in the sex lives of its royalty’s visitors. We won’t be seen.”

And, so saying, he pressed into her with a slick, smooth shove.

Maria cried out, arching her back to take him as deep as she could. The hot ache around the fullness in her was like a brand, marking her as his. She dug her nails into his shoulders, then clung as he lifted her off him, then let gravity slide her back down again—

Her skin rubbed against the stone of the wall, pressed between it and his body. Steve’s arms worked to lift her, muscles rippling under her hands, flexing under her legs and calves where they were wrapped around him. Yet his breath was steady and warm against her throat, barely laboured with the effort. The effect was incredibly hot – even without the steady, yearning friction of his body moving in her

She pressed a hand against his cheek, turning his face up to her. The moonlight leached his skin and hair of colour, but intensifying the expression on his face, the gleam of his eyes as he fucked her with long, strong strokes.

“Hey,” he breathed. “Not enough?”

“Shorter.” It was a gasp – all she could manage. “Faster.”

“Is that an order?” Steve’s eyes glittered as he grinned, but his hips worked in hers, upping the pace as he rolled his hips than thrusting deep. Maria ran her hand down his chest, flattening over his pec, and down between them where she rubbed herself—so close—

He leaned in, pressing a sucking kiss on her throat. “Come, Maria.” His hands tightened on her thighs as she quivered—so close— “Sweet and easy, now—” Another lingering kiss on her throat—

Steve lifted his head as her body spasmed around him, his mouth curving in a very male satisfaction that tightened and intensified as he came in response to her orgasm. And Maria met his gaze, refusing to shy away from her pleasure or his, until he leaned in to let his forehead rest against hers, and the roll of his hips stilled as lassitude spread through their bodies.

“Good enough?” He murmured after a while.

“More than.”

He lifted her off him and carried her back to the bed. Then held her by the waist while she found her feet on the mattress, looking up at her in an uncertain entreaty. “May I stay tonight?”

_Asgard isn’t public. This room isn’t public._

Maria brushed her thumbs across his brows. “Okay,” she conceded, then tapped his nose. “So long as I get a repeat performance tomorrow morning.”

He grinned and pressed his mouth to her palm. “I think I can manage an encore in the morning.”

In fact he managed three.

* * *

 "You came back with...bedsheets?" Pepper asked, sounding confused.

"Yep," said Maria, unrepentant.

 


End file.
